278 



APPENDIX TO THE 



At the fair t'other day. 



As she pass'd by me, 

 She look'd another way, 



And would not spy me. 

 I woo'd her for to dine, 



But could not get her ; 

 Dick had her to the Vine, 



He migVt entreat her. 

 With Daniel she did dance, 

 On me she wou'd not glance, 

 Oh I thrice unhappy chance, 

 Fiiillida nouts me. 



Fair maid, be not so coy. 



Do not disdain me ; 

 I am my mother's joy, 



Sweet, entertain me. 

 I shall have, when she dies. 



All things that's fitting, 

 Her poultry and her bees, 



And her goose sitting ; 

 A pair of mattress beds, 

 A barrel full of shreds : 

 And yet for all these goods, 

 Fhillida flouts me. 



1 often heard her say. 



That she lov'd posies ; 

 In the last month of May 



I gave her roses ; 

 Cowslips and gilly-flowers, 



And the sweet lily, 

 I got to deck the bowers 



Of my dear Philly : _ 

 She did them all disdain, 

 And threw them back again ; 

 Therefore 'tis flat and plain, 

 Phillida flouts me. 



Thou shalt eat curds-and-creim 



All the year lasting, 

 And drink the crystal stream, 



Pleasant in tasting ; 

 Swig whey until you burst, 



Eat bramble-berries, 



CHEVY 



Pie-lid and pastry crust, 



Pears, plums, and cherries ; 

 Thy garments shall be thin. 

 Made of a wether's skin, 

 Yet all's not worth a pin, 



Phillida flouts me. 

 Which way soe'er I go. 



She stiil torments me ; 

 And whatsoe'er I do. 



Nothing contents me ; 

 I fade and pine away 



With grief and sorrow ; 

 T fall quite to decay, 



Like any shadow ; 

 I shall be dead, I fear. 

 Within a thousand-year. 

 And all because my dear 



Phillida flouts me. 



Fair maiden, have a care, 



And in time take me ; 

 I can have those as fair, 



If you forsake me: 

 There's Doll the dairymaid 



Smil'd on me lately. 

 And wanton Winnifred 



Favours me greatly ; 

 One throws milk on my clothes. 

 T'other plays with my nose ; 

 What pretty toys are those? 

 Phillida flouts me. 

 She hath a cloth of mine, 



Wrought with blue Coventry, 

 Which she keeps as a sign 



Of my fidelity ; 

 But if she frowns on me. 



She ne'er shall wear it ; 

 I'll give it my maid Joan, 

 -And she shall tear it. 

 Since 'twill no better be, 

 I'll bear it patiently ; 

 Yet all the world may see 



Phillida flouts me. 



CHASE. 



The length of this well-known ballad prevents its being reprinted here. 

 It will be found in " Percy's Reliques," as well as in several other collec- 

 tions, 



JOHNNY ARMSTRONG. 



(From Ritson's Ancient Songs and Ballads, ed. 1829, vol. ii. p. 

 where it is entitled "John Armstrong's Last Good-Night.") 



215, 



Is there never a man in all Scotland, 

 From the highest estate to the lowest 

 degree. 



That can show himself now before the king, 

 Scotland is so full of treachery? 



Yes, there is a man in WestmorelJind, 

 And John Armstrong they doTiim call, 



He has no lands nor rents coming in, _ 

 Yet he keeps eight-score men within his 

 hall. - 



He has horses and harness for them all. 

 And goodly steeds that be milk-white, 



With their goodly belts about their necks, 

 With hats and feathers all alike. 



The king he writes a loving lettfer, 

 And with his own hand so tenderly. 



And hath sent it unto Johnny Armstrong, 

 To come and speak with him speedily. 



When John he look'd this letter upon. 

 Good lord, he look'd as blithe as a bird in 

 a tree : 

 " I was never before a king in my life. 

 My father, my grandfather, nor none of 

 us three. 



